


Socks

by anotherbuskitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherbuskitten/pseuds/anotherbuskitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always used to receive socks from his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Socks

**Author's Note:**

> this gets worse as it progresses and I wish I could have made it a happy ending at least. you can have mediocre and bittersweet instead

It isn’t like he enjoyed the gift he had been receiving from his brother for as long as he could remember it was just that celebrations were odd without a lumpy package containing oddly sized holey socks.

He doesn’t even know where his brother managed to find the things. Twice a year he would unenthusiastically pull off the wrapping paper to reveal two socks that looked like they wouldn’t be sold by even the poorest merchant.

He used them to plug holes in the wall or as kindling or to hold chicken feed on the rare occasions he fed the animals. They held no sentimental value for him as it was obvious that all Abe thought he was worth were a few lousy knuts, if that.

The first time the customary package didn’t appear in his haul was after Ariana died. He didn’t blame Abe for ignoring the occasion. He knew what he’d done.

The second time; his nineteenth birthday, he took more stock of the situation. He was under no illusions that Abe had forgiven him but it was different now. Along with Ariana both their parents were dead, and with Elphius away and him now free of Gellert’s charm Albus had finally realised how important Aberforth’s unwavering, silent companionship had been.

Abe moves away from the Hollow soon after that Christmas and Albus puts the house up for sale and applies for a teaching job.

Five years later and the house is still up for sale, the brothers haven’t spoken in as long; Albus is teaching transfiguration and still has no new socks.

He isn’t sure what Abe is doing.

/

Time passes and war arrives and he is a coward who hides from his mistakes until one of them finds him.

Aberforth appears in his office one day after class. His face is stormy and his hands are in fists at his side.

Albus stares in shock and is horrified to discover his eyes blurring and his hands shaking.

He steps forward; ready to do or say anything for the chance of getting his brother back but Abe halts him easily; holding up a hand and stepping away from him.

“Have you seen outside brother?”

“Outside?”

“The real world Albus. The one everyone with a lesser mind is forced to live in.”

“I don’t understand. Aberforth --”

Abe throws a copy of the prophet at him, “Grindelwald, Albus. How long do you plan on pretending this is not happening?”

“That is not my fault.”

“No? Did you not encourage him? Work with him? Find him everything he needed for this mad plan? Was that another brother?”

“I’ve changed.” He’s weak in the face of his brother’s rage.

“Well he hasn’t. For once in your life, Albus, admit you’ve done wrong and fix this before it goes any further.”

“Why should I? Why should this burden be mine? I’m only a teacher, brother, not a warrior. There are people out there whose job it is to fight him. Why me?”

Aberforth looked at him in disgust. “Why you?”

Albus sinks to the ground clutching at the prophet in despair. “You do it.” He sighs wearily, “Do you not want acclaim anymore?”

“The only thing I desire, _Albus_ , is for my sister to be returned to me.” He spits out, “I have never wanted fame and adoration from any except you but alas you were busy playing way with a megalomaniac. Don’t force your sins to me.”

Albus winces and hides his face. Abe grips his arm and forces him up – his brother is a man now and no longer easily put down by his elders.

“You think if I thought for one second that I could survive a battle with him I would not do it? HE KILLED MY SISTER!”

“I thought that was me.” Albus muttered into the silence that followed.

Aberforth dropped his grip and turned away. “I don’t know why I bothered coming here today.”

“Wait – Abe!” His brother stills, just out of the doorway, but Albus doesn’t know what he can say, just as he can’t fight his brother now he can’t fight Gellert for he loves Gellert and how can he strike down another he cares for.

“I – don’t leave. Please.”

Aberforth’s shoulders fall and he shakes his head before walking away. Albus feels like screaming but his throat is caught.

He sinks back to the floor and doesn’t bother to muffle his sobs.

/

There are celebrations everywhere he goes and everywhere he goes there are people wanting to hoist him high, give him medals, and shout his name. There is nowhere to hide.

He goes home to search for his brother hoping for something, absolution perhaps, Abe is not there. Albus isn’t sure why he expected him to stay in the Hollow.

He wanders not quite aimlessly over to the family plot and kneels in front of his sister’s marker. He feels like an imposter here; he never really knew his sister perhaps if he had –

Perhaps, perhaps, what use has he now for perhapses and what-ifs?

He goes to the pub.

 

It is a new place on the edge of Hogsmeade that he has yet to visit due to the fact that he is trying to avoid making friends outside of the school. He thinks he might have just killed that ambition.

He hides his face as he enters; still wary of the crowds, but this building is blessedly silent.

He sits down in a ratty seat at the bar and calls for a firewhiskey. It burns his throat going down but does nothing to dull his mind. He orders another.

“If it isn’t the hero of the hour,” a wry voice says from across him, “Shouldn’t you be celebrating somewhere?”

“This is me; celebrating.” He doesn’t bother to look up. The bartender laughs and slides the drink to him.

“Still hung up on him then?” There’s a cruel twist to his voice and Albus startles.

“ABE?! What are you doing here?”

“Tending bar, genius. Tell me, what made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t change anything – I just wanted to stop fighting. Another please.”

“You couldn’t kill him though could you?” Abe poured the whiskey with excruciating slowness.

“I would have thought you’d be against murder.” He muttered bitterly, swallowing the drink down eagerly.

“Oh I am,” Abe said cheerfully, already pouring another glass, “A long drawn out experience of rotting in a cell with no one to appreciate his genius? I think it’s a wonderful plan.”

“Shuttup.” Albus slurred angrily.

“You’re such a lightweight brother. Do you ever actually drink?”

Albus murmured something into the bartop and groped around for his glass.

“Well at least it means we shouldn’t have to see each other often, eh?”

Aberforth rolled his eyes at his lolling brother and came around the counter to lift him up. “No doubt you’d end up getting robbed if I sent you out there alone. You can sleep it off upstairs while I tidy up. Come on.”

/

Albus didn’t receive socks again that year but he did indulge in a Christmas argument with his brother at the pub.

There was a goat.

He definitely didn’t get drunk and ask if it was called Ariana. In the same vein Aberforth definitely didn’t throw a shot glass at him and knock him out.

And he certainly didn’t wake on Boxing Day to discover he was being used as a doorstop.

/

As the years go by they get older and slightly less inclined to argue. A case could probably be made for wiser and more forgiving but it is not.

Battles come and go, Albus becomes headmaster and fails to stop people asking him to become minister, Aberforth gets more goats and a small but loyal group of customers.

There are no new socks.

Harry Potter arrives at Hogwarts and Albus worries that he is making another mistake in what he is doing. He doesn’t ask Aberforth for advice – he wants to so desperately though.

He visits the mirror of Erised whenever he can, staring longingly, sometimes all night long, at the wonderful image it presents.

His mother and father standing together, his brother and sister curved into each other like always, himself clutching at his newly opened socks, and Gellert behind him; one of the family.

Christmas arrives, as it always does, with snow and promises of love that do not follow through. He tells Potter about the mirror and swears to move the damned thing as soon as possible.

/

He visits his brother the next morning. The pub is closed so he casts a warming charm and sits by the goats.

Eventually Aberforth must give up on his going away because he comes out carrying two mugs of steaming drink.

“Isn’t there a feast or something you should be attending?” He growls as he clears the snow away to sit down.

“It turns out that Christmas is a time for family.”

“Who knew?”

He wants desperately to ask about the socks but doesn’t because he is still a coward when it comes to his brother.

He sips the warm drink and asks about the goats instead.


End file.
